I drifted forward, obsessed with its purpose.
Droplets of condensation clung to the inner plastic, rolling hesitantly toward the funnel at the bottom.
Conner poked the plastic with his finger. “What the hell is this?”
“Fresh water, of course.” Galloway hopped, with the aid of his crutch, from the forest edge. His face was tight with pain, and his five o’ clock shadow had grown thicker overnight.
Pippa dashed forward, holding the unwrapped poncho that I’d stuffed into my pockets.
My pockets!
My jacket.
I froze in place. “Oh, my God!”
Everyone jumped.
“What?” Galloway demanded.
I dashed toward Pippa, kidnapping her hands. “Where did you find this?”
“I didn’t steal it. Promise!”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m not saying that. But it was in something of mine that I can’t find. Do you know where it is?”
“That puffer thing you wouldn’t let go of?” Galloway’s voice wrenched my head up.
I nodded furiously. “Yes, that. My jacket. Where is my jacket?”
“Why, what’s so important?”
“Doesn’t matter!” I breathed hard, tasting salvation like a sweet, sweet wine.
We could be saved.
This could all be over.
“I lost it in the crash. I couldn’t find it—”
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands. “I’m only messing with you. I hung it on a tree a few metres away to dry.” He pointed into the undergrowth. “It’s not exactly clean—”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be back.” My feet flew, my ribs cried, but for once, I didn’t care.
My jacket would send us home.
My jacket held my cell-phone.
Chapter Eighteen
...............................................
G A L L O W A Y
......
DAMN WOMAN TOOK off like a bloody gazelle, leaping into the treeline.
Conner made to chase her, but I grabbed his wrist. “Not this time, little buddy. Let her do whatever’s so important.”
I knew what was important.
I’d found her jacket.
I’d gone through her pockets.
I’d found the cell-phone.
For a second, I’d wanted to cry in relief, but when I tried to turn it on...it was dead.
The crushing blow had been enough to put me in a sour mood even though I’d remembered a survival technique that would, at least, keep us with a small ration of water.
If I’d told Estelle about the flat battery—same as my useless, smashed-to-pieces phone—she wouldn’t have believed me. Something like that (when you have so much hope pinned on it) had to be seen to be believed.
So, I did the only thing I could.
I gingerly lowered myself to the sand and stretched out my broken leg. My hands shook as I placed the crutch beside me. The shaking wasn’t new. I constantly shook. I didn’t know if it was from hunger or pain—the two sensations had plaited together and tormented relentlessly. But I did know I was on the brink of a fever and needed to be smart about conserving my energy as much as possible.
Pippa’s bottom lip wobbled. “Where did she go?”
“She’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.” I patted the ground beside me. “Come on, sit here.”
She shook her head, staring longingly into the forest. Already the kids had latched onto Estelle because she permeated a vibe that said everything would be okay as long as she was around.
With me...they were more likely to get snapped at than hugged.
I told the truth when Estelle asked if the splint had helped. I did feel better. She’d earned my eternal gratitude. But it didn’t matter because there was so much bad to overcome before we found anything good.
Thinking of her must’ve yanked her into manifestation because she exploded from the forest, holding her bronze puffer jacket.
Her face split in the biggest smile. “I found it! We’re saved!”
No...we’re not.
Slamming to her knees in the soft sand, she ripped open the zipper pockets and scooped item after item. Notepads, pens, handheld mirror, small tube of toothpaste, hair-ties...on and on until finally she tore free her cell-phone.
Shit.
My heart sank for her.
This was going to suck watching her hope disintegrate.
I gnawed on the inside of my cheek as she brushed away lint and pocket remnants. She thought we would be rescued. That we wouldn’t have to worry about tree huts or eating raw fish (if we could even catch one).
Estelle wiped away grateful tears. “Thank God, it’s waterproof. Otherwise, the storm would’ve wiped it out.”
Like mine.
Even if my battery wasn’t dead and the screen smashed into a million filaments, the water leaking from the keypad would’ve killed it.
With shaking hands, she tried turning it on.
I stiffened.
Don’t do it. Don’t hurt yourself this way.
Conner and Pippa gathered around her, the air of excitement palpable.
I can’t watch.
My shoulders tightened as Estelle made an annoyed noise and Conner sucked in a breath. “Shit, it’s dead.”
Estelle didn’t comment on his profanity. I waited for the trauma, or worse, the epic silent despair that was imminent.
Wanting to console her, I murmured, “Don’t worry about it. It was a long shot and it’s over.”
She looked up. “It doesn’t matter.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? Of course, it bloody matters. Stop torturing yourself and accept the truth. It has no power. None.”
Was she well? Had the heat finally cracked her?
My heart knotted into a noose at the thought of her losing it. As much as I hated leaning on her, I couldn’t survive without her coherent and completely here with me.
“Oh, really?” She merely smiled and gave the phone to Pippa to hold.
Yep, she’s lost it.
Dragging her jacket higher up her lap, she pulled one last thing from a pocket I hadn’t seen inside the lining. A passport and credit cards fell unneeded onto the sand. A smug grin tugged her mouth.
Unravelling the device, Estelle smoothed out the wires and angled the black glass into the full path of the sunshine.
Conner bounced on his knees. “Crap, that’s awesome.”
“What’s awesome?” My curiosity billowed with every breath.
“They’re so cool,” Conner said. “My dad gave me a torch with a solar panel charger for Christmas last year.”
Solar charger?
She had a bloody solar charger?
Who was this woman?
Who was ever this prepared?
“Why the hell do you have something like that?”
Her head snapped up. “I was on tour. My battery didn’t last a full day, and I didn’t have access to a socket.”
“Tour?”
She waved away my comment. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is...we have power.”
I couldn’t.
I just couldn’t.
First, she took care of us, setting our breaks and doing everything in her ability to make us comfortable, and then, she had the foresight to pack her pockets with things like solar chargers and a waterproof phone?
I want to marry her.
I didn’t care if she said no. I didn’t care that she didn’t want me. I had to have her.
Despite myself, the bitch called hope unwound, reeling me in with tasty bait. Could we be saved, after all?
Stop it.
It was never that easy and coming down from a hopeful high was a bloody killer.
“They’re cool, right?” Estelle plugged her phone into the sun-operated charger; the chime of a connected device to an energy source rippled over my skin.
Estelle sat on her haunches as she waited for the phon
e to come alive.
I’d never been so anxious in my life.
“It takes a long time for a full charge, but I can use it while it’s plugged in.” Swiping the screen, she waited for the boot-up process.
The kids hovered far too close, their heads in her line of vision and fingers reverently touching the phone. We all waited, unsuccessfully hiding our impatient eagerness.
“Well?” I asked, frustration heavy in my voice.
“Well, what?” Estelle tapped and surfed menu after menu. Her shoulders locked the longer she played.
And I knew.
I just knew it wouldn’t be our ticket to freedom.
Goddammit, why did I let myself get swept away?
I knew this would happen, yet it still hurt like a blood-thirsty butcher.
Scooting down the log, I lay on my back and glowered at the leaves above. My ankle and foot amplified in agony, but it was nothing compared to the deflating hope inside.
Pippa was the one to point out the obvious. “No signal.”
Estelle sighed unhappily. “You’re right. No signal.”
“Perhaps, we need to get higher.” Conner squinted into the bright sky. “There has to be a signal. There are mobile satellites and networks everywhere.”
I let them plot the pros and cons of how likely a signal would just magically appear while I sank deeper into regrets. I wasn’t helping myself by wallowing, but I couldn’t stop wishing I’d been a better person, nicer, more appreciative before crash landing on this godforsaken place.
A burst of energy hurled me upright. “Screw this.” I wasn’t going to sit there and waste any more of my life. I might not able to fix what’d happened, but I could grant a better night’s sleep tonight by erecting some sort of shelter.
It took every reserve I had to brace myself against the sand and use the fulcrum of my crutch to stand upright. I barely made it to the edge of the forest before Estelle dumped her phone onto the beach and rushed toward me.
Taking my elbow, she ordered, “Go sit back down, before you fall.”
I shrugged her off. Couldn’t she see her concern only made me hate myself more?
“Leave me alone.”
She winced, dropping her hand. “You don’t have to do this. You need to rest.”
I rounded on her. “Oh, I don’t, do I? So you’re happy to sleep in the elements? Or are you going to use that Swiss Army knife and build a damn mansion? Show me up yet again?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not showing you up—”
“You think caring for us gives you a purpose?” I snorted. “Well, stop being a hypocrite and let me help for a change.”
“Hypocrite? How am I a hypocrite?”
Conner sidled up to Estelle, instinctually protecting the woman over someone much bigger than her.
I ignored the kid. “You’re hurt yourself. Don’t think I didn’t notice you strapped your ribcage and gasp every time you bloody move. You expect us to heal and relax but what about you?” Shoving her away from me, I pointed at the camp. “Sit down, shut up, and let me do something. I need to do something. Let me help rather than treat me like a useless invalid.”
The standoff lasted far too long. The glint in her eyes warned she wouldn’t give in.
Conner was the saving grace.
He tugged Estelle’s elbow. “He’s right. My wrist isn’t as painful thanks to you, and Pippa’s cut is clean because of what you did. Let us look after you in return.”
Estelle suddenly slapped her forehead. “Damn, Pippa’s injury. I forgot.” Flashing me a scowl, she smiled at Conner and dashed to Pippa. “Pip, now that your back is clean, let’s put some cream and the Band-Aid on that we found in the medical pack. What do you think?”
Damn woman didn’t know how to stop. Her caring for others would only hurt herself in the long run.
It’s her coping mechanism.
Mine was to become a complete and utter asshole so people left me alone to self-damage. But hers was the exact opposite.
She was purity while I was filth.
Fine.
She could be my opposite and I would do my best to mirror her goodness—starting with building a shelter.
My voice bordered on a growl. “Want to help, Conner?”
Conner looked up. “Help with what?”
“Dunno. I’ll figure it out when I know.”
“You really think we can build a house?”
No.
“Yes.” I hobbled deeper into the forest. “You coming?”
He followed, laughing wryly. “Broken wrist and broken leg. I don’t like our odds.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“And how did it work out for you?”
Crap. Worse than crap. It ruined my screwed-up life.
“Perfectly fine.” I grinned as if it were nothing. “We’re men. Nothing is unachievable.”
Conner rolled his eyes. “Okay, we’ll give it a go, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Chapter Nineteen
...............................................
E S T E L L E
......
I hate you. The sky cries with how much I hate you. The plants die with how much I hate you. I hate you for leaving. I hate you for dying. I hate you.
But that’s all a lie.
I don’t hate you. I love you. That’s the truth. The sun rises with how much I love you. The weather warms with how much I love you. And the potted flower you gave me the morning you died...it blooms every second with how much I miss you.
Lyrics: ‘Hatred’ Taken from the notepad of E.E.
...
WE NEVER DID achieve a roof over our heads.
Another night descended and we nibbled on our second-to-last muesli bar and final sticks of beef jerky. Using the small axe from the cockpit, we split open the two coconuts Conner and I had found.
Unfortunately, our technique sucked and we hit too hard, losing the sweet water all over the sand.
I berated myself until my eyes prickled with angry tears. We didn’t get to drink the nectar, but at least we were able to share the flesh, scraping the coconut with the Swiss Army knife and pretending it was dessert to round out our lacklustre dinner.
No one mentioned the awful situation of a working cell-phone with no signal. No one could bear the admission that the final nail had been hammered into our lonely tomb.
It was as if it never happened and I hated shouldering the responsibility for taunting them with hope.
The battery on my phone had hit forty percent before the sun went down, and I tucked it safely away for tomorrow’s solar charge.
But...what was the point?
The phone had turned into a paperweight. Emergency numbers didn’t work. Wifi, data, calls...nothing.
Useless.
Just like everything else on this island.
Just like me.
The constant hollowness in my stomach grew worse as hours ticked into days. I’d never gone without food for so long, and already, I felt things shutting down. I rarely needed to pee, and everything was hazy—as if I’d entered a realm where comprehension was blanketed with syrup.
I was lethargic, short-tempered, and depressed.
By the time we curled into our sandy beds (Pippa wrapped in my arms and Galloway refusing to admit he wasn’t well enough to build a shelter), I fell into the first sleep I’d had since crash landing.
Not because I was utterly exhausted and my body finally forced me to rest. But because dreams were so much better than reality.
.............................
DAY THREE
“I’m sorry.”
I spun around, stumbling in shock. “You’re awake.”
Galloway’s hand lashed out, catching my elbow and keeping me upright. “Heard you get up.”
I took a step away, breaking his hold (even though his touch was more than welcome). I didn’t like the animosity from yesterday and definitely didn’t like the sensation of loneliness w
hen he’d left. I had no one else to turn to. We couldn’t afford to be angry with each other.
“I’m sorry, too.”
His eyes smouldered in the night, his lips twitching into a soft smile.
Some of my fear and unhappiness dissolved. I was so glad to have someone to talk to, even if the topics of conversation weren’t normal.
Galloway was no longer a stranger but a friend. A friend I trusted even if I didn’t fully understand.
Turning to face the polyethylene he’d wrapped around a few branches of our shady tree (what was that about anyway?), I whispered, “I couldn’t sleep.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I ensured Pippa and Conner slept without interruption. After my slip into unconsciousness, I’d awoken abruptly, only to find the sun hadn’t risen yet.
“Me either.” Galloway swayed, his crutch wedged beneath his arm for support. The cut on his thigh had scabbed over, healing faster than the scrape on my chest.
At some point, he’d pulled on a pair of board-shorts with a black and teal pattern. They hid his boxer-briefs but still allowed the splint to stay on.
“How are you feeling?” I hugged myself, doing my best to stay warm. Daytimes were hot but the nights...weren’t. If lack of hunger didn’t kill us, the swinging temperatures would.
Galloway glanced away. “I’m fine.”
“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
A flicker of amusement. “Probably not.”
“Such a man.”
“I would’ve expected a worse name than that.”
We made eye contact. My heart became a stupid pinwheel. “Oh? What should I call you?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. Idiot? Douche-bag? Those are two.”
I let the joviality hover, enjoying the simplicity. “I don’t think either of those suit you.”
His voice switched to an intoxicating murmur. “What do you suggest then?”
Turning to face him, I cocked my head. I used it as an excuse to stare at him. Stare at his dark brown hair curling over his forehead, the pink sunburn on his nose, and his perfectly formed lips.
My stomach fluttered as his gaze dropped to my mouth.
Everything tightened. My muscles, my core, my heart.
I wanted to bridge the gap between us. I wanted to wrap myself around him, and in turn, have his arms wrap around me, stealing reassurance that tomorrow would be a better day.
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